


a place where my thoughts are far more suited than here

by 8The_Great_Perhaps8



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Bittersweet Ending, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Extended Metaphors, Gen, Hyuuga Clan-centric, Mental Health Issues, Mild Blood, Non-Linear Narrative, Self-Esteem Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8The_Great_Perhaps8/pseuds/8The_Great_Perhaps8
Summary: "I want to live where soul meets bodyAnd let the sun wrap its arms around meAnd bathe my skin in water cool and cleansingAnd feel, feel what its like to be new"Neji knows that there is something wrong with him.





	a place where my thoughts are far more suited than here

**Author's Note:**

> title & summary are from 'soul meets body' by death cab for cutie

There is something wrong with Neji’s chest.

He is not certain what it is. There is a tightness, as though he is being bandaged, or constricted. It is so bad, often, that he cannot breathe- he lies in his bed, late at night, when he should be resting, and stares at the ceiling, eyes wide in panic, as he desperately struggles to achieve even one halfway inhale. It eases when he is training, or on a mission; something that he can put all of his body and mind into. It eases slightly during leisure time, when he is wandering the village with Lee and Tenten, or trying to keep Tenten’s glitter from spilling into the streets, but it is still there- when he is only half-occupied, only spending time with Lee and Tenten instead of sparring or training, or when he is reading a book, or doing warm-ups and stretches- anything that takes only his body or only his mind, the tightness returns, wrapping around his ribs and squeezing and taking his breath, and at the same time curling in the pit of his stomach, making him feel nauseous even though he knows that nothing could come out, with how tight his chest feels.

He is not certain how long it has been wrong. At least since he made genin- rather, at least since he started the academy, his chest tight and painful when Mizuki-sensei had first introduced fuuinjutsu and the concept of kekkei genkai, the nausea pooling in his stomach. Not enough for his classmates to have noticed- Neji must have had the luck of a blind card shark, his entire graduating class loud and intrusive and asking far too many questions- but more than enough for the chuunin Mizuki-sensei to have noticed, to have sent him more than one sharp glance. He had asked Neji to stay after class, once, but Neji just left anyway. No uncomfortable questions, that way, no one asking him if he were upset about the main house or telling him to keep it under control, for a good shinobi never showed emotion.

There had not been anything wrong while his father was alive.

Neji remembers that much about when he had been with his father. He remembers going to festivals with his father, still holding hands back then, still too young to be allowed to wander by himself. He remembers his father teaching him how to play janken; his father reading him a story one night before bed, his father standing tall and regal in a morning sunrise that was too early for Neji to have supposed to have seen it.

He remembers his father smiling at him just before the elders held him down and forced white-hot pain into his forehead that had burned for days afterwards, and still burned, occasionally, at the thought of his father’s death and of Hinata’s luck.

He remembers his father collapsing with a howl, screaming in pain and clutching his forehead as Uncle Hiashi stood in the center of the training room, tall and controlled and casual, telling Neji’s father to remember his place.

He remembers feeling the distant burning on his own forehead as he watched his father writhe on the ground.

That, Neji thinks, is when something began to go wrong with his chest. That is the first time that he can remember his ribs feeling like they were cracking inwards, puncturing his heart and lungs, collapsing his trachea. It is the first he remembers the same tightness welling up in his stomach, making him feel nearly too nauseous to stand, much less breathe or speak or eat.

He does not know what is wrong with his chest.

Neji’s father once told Neji about his dead wife. She was a branch family Hyuuga, just as Neji’s father had been, but she had been a standout nonetheless- an extrovert, a bold woman, the loudest voice in any room and always the most delighted. The kind of woman who didn’t mind much telling you if she had a problem with you, but was just as free with telling you how much she loved you.

Her name had been Hyuuga Chizue, and she had deserved it, Neji’s father had told him.

She had died on the battle field in the third shinobi world war, where Neji had managed to be born by the medic who had not managed to save his mother.

Her name had been carved onto the memorial stone.

Neji is proud to have a mother who died fighting for something.

He thinks about it, sometimes, dying for something. Dying like an Uchiha, to Hinata or to Hanabi as they test their main house abilities. Dying like a hero, like the yondaime apparently had, and being celebrated throughout all of Konoha- throughout all of the Land of Fire, really, for such a magnificent death. Dying at sea, in exile or in exploration. Dying as he overthrew Hiashi. Dying as he invaded Kumo. Dying a failure, captured by an enemy-nin or missing-nin and tortured to death. Dying a failure, killing himself after a failed mission like the traitor Sakumo. Dying a failure, a simple misstep on the battlefield making him another dead body to limp over and another name on the memorial stone.

Dying on the battlefield like his mother, but not for anything he chose, but because he was ordered to go to battle by Hiashi or Hinata, the threat always implicit in their words.

Dying for nothing, like his father.

Neji thinks about dying quite often. It eases the tightness in his chest, when he thinks about it deeply enough, but too often it just moves somewhere else. To his sternum, where Sakumo had stabbed his tanto. To his wrists, where so many shinobi cut with their kunai that there were pamphlets about how to treat those vertical wounds.

To his eyes, which he could gouge out and then be worthless, not just as Hinata’s sacrifice but as a shinobi, with no way for him to see at all and the veins from his byakugan pumping all of his blood out.

To his forehead, where he could gouge out the seal.

Too often, the tightness spreads from his chest to his shoulders and down his arms into his hands, which are always desperate to clench into fists, no matter what he might be holding in them. He does not indulge this- a good shinobi must never show any emotion- and he instead practices his katas, slow, controlled, and so unbearably tight.

It would be easier if he were not a genius. But because Neji is a genius, his uncle keeps a close eye on him whenever he trains within the Hyuuga compound, just in case of a sudden coup from the only Hyuuga family member who eats alone.

When Neji is in the same room as his uncle, it is almost as though he is being strangled, or slowly squeezed to death by a boa constrictor. Air comes to him too slowly, and is almost all eaten away by the roiling in his stomach. It is not until his uncle leaves the room that his ribs can slowly relax, spreading back out to their usual constriction.

It is only when Neji is entirely distracted by his team that he feels as unstrangled as he had when his father had been alive.

Lee and Tenten are both excellent distractions. Tenten moreso, in sparring, because she never fails to surprise Neji. She has a great skill in fuuinjutsu and kenjutsu and taijutsu and ninjutsu, and she always mixes up both her class of jutsu and her technique to force Neji to think on his feet and to consider all of the variables.

Lee is a distraction primarily by way of his refusal to stop talking during spars. Lee’s spars are, ordinarily, no challenge for Neji- the Gentle Fist technique lends itself well to dealing with pure taijutsu types, and Lee does not have enough speed yet to surprise Neji.

But the shouting, that helps. Especially when Lee will demand a stop to the match if he does not receive an answer.

However, Lee does not seem to want to give up.

He should. He is weak, as a shinobi, and too vulnerable and far too much of an idiot to ever make much of himself. He is already a failure, was a failure as soon as he tried to continue to be a shinobi despite his dismal skills in almost every shinobi art. He was destined to fail as a shinobi, and so he is failing as a shinobi.

Neji’s great-great-great-great-great grandfather was destined to be a fuinjutsu prodigy during the Warring States period, a prodigy who sided with the Uchiha due to their similar kekkei genkai.

Neji’s great-great-great-great-great grandmother was destined to marry his great-great-great-great-great grandfather and have several beautiful babies.

Neji’s great-great-great-great-great grandaunt was destined to start the Hyuuga branch house, because she allied herself with her brother after her brother had allied himself with the Uchiha clan.

This led to Neji’s grandmother, who was destined to give birth to two twin boys.

This led to Neji’s father, who was destined to be born only a few seconds after Neji’s uncle.

This led to Neji’s father being branded like a cow.

This led to Neji’s father falling in love with Hyuuga Chizue, who was destined to die in battle.

Neji’s uncle, having been born less than a minute earlier than Neji’s father, was destined to have a daughter. Two, really, but only one was destined to lead to the death of Neji’s father.

Neji’s uncle’s first daughter, who might as well have murdered Neji’s father with her bare hands, was destined to be nearly kidnapped by a Kumo nin, who was destined to die.

This led to Neji’s father being killed by his own clan, his own brother, his own niece.

This led to Neji, who was destined to be left alone with no family that cared about him enough to eat with him, and an uncle who watched his every move like a hawk.

Neji has no choice in who he is, and has not since his great-great-great-great-great grandfather decided to become a fuuinjutsu prodigy instead of a ninjutsu prodigy, or medical prodigy, or genjutsu prodigy, or even taijutsu prodigy.

Neji is trapped, in his life and his destiny and his family and his own body, as his ribs creak ever-tighter around and into his lungs and heart.

Gai-sensei signs them up for the chuunin exams.

It is not ideal, as far as timing goes, because Hinata is taking her chuunin exams in the same session as Neji. If she thinks to do it- and his thoughts have been becoming very cruel to Hinata, since he realized that she was the one who murdered his father- then she could paralyze Neji completely. If she does not, and if Neji wins against her, then it would be Hiashi himself.

Gai-sensei has him stay behind after he announces their upcoming involvement.

He tells Neji that he knows about the problems that Neji has with the main house.

Neji does not respond.

Gai-sensei tells Neji that he understands that Neji’s younger cousin is taking the exams this year, as well.

Neji does not respond.

Gai-sensei tells Neji that he hopes that Neji’s feelings towards the main house will not impact his performance.

Neji knows. A good shinobi never shows emotion.

Gai-sensei sends Neji off with a pat on the back and his warning.

Neji does not inform Hiashi that he is taking the chuunin exams.

He also does not inform Hinata.

He can see her surprise in her eyes when she and her team are approaching the door, which is under a genjutsu. Neji would already be gone, but Lee is, unfortunately, a moron.

Who immediately gets into a fight with another examinee. And not just some nameless genin from another village, but Uchiha Sasuke, who Neji _knows_ is too like him for them to exist near each other.

And so, as soon as Lee challenges Sasuke, Neji and Tenten escape to the correct testing location. Lee joins them several minutes later, with an enormous welt coming up on his head.

He tells them that it is punishment from Gai-sensei for his foolishness.

The written portion of the chuunin exams is hardly a struggle at all. It would be easier if Neji could think, but everyone in the room is so damn loud- the nin seem to think that they are being stealthy, as they throw sand everywhere and toss kekkei genkai around like they are going to lose it in the next twenty minutes.

And his chest keeps getting tighter and tighter, no matter how much he tries to focus on the questions in front of him, focus on his pencil, focus on not breaking his pencil and not tearing his paper and not looking at his father’s niece.

The forest is better. It is more open, and yet more closed off- there is free air flow, but the trees are so thick and packed together that it is nearly impossible to move between them freely.

But Neji can speak to Tenten and Lee, and he can breathe, and the tightness only comes back to him during the slow times, when he is on watch or trying to fall asleep or cooking food.

It is not slow when he accuses the ninja attacking Sasuke’s team of being from a third-rate village.

It is perfect, it is what always takes away his tightness and his nausea and gives him something else to see.

It is over too quickly.

The blonde boy and the pink-haired girl both thank him, after the other nin are driven away.

He assures them that it was no problem at all.

He agrees to help them into the trees, so that they have a safe place to rest for the night.

And when he and Lee and Tenten are leaping away through the trees, the tightness comes back.

They make it to the tower quickly. Not the quickest, nor the second quickest, but quickly enough that they are secure in their continuation.

There is an elimination round before the true combat stage of the chuunin exams.

Neji’s father once told him that he had become a chuunin before his main house brother. An entire year earlier.

Neji had not dared to ask his uncle if it were true. It feels true, but everything that Neji’s father ever told him feels true. His father was destined to die, but he died a good man. A better man than Neji would be, a loyal man, a man who trusted his village.

Neji barely trusts his genin team.

The first fight that matters is Tenten’s.

She is fighting a kunoichi from Suna, one who fights with an enormous metal fan and the wind that it creates.

Tenten should win.

Tenten is proficient in every weapon she has sealed. More than proficient- she would not bother to seal them into her scroll if she was anything less than completely confident in her skill with them. She is a master of nearly every ninja weapon, and her taijutsu is excellent and creative and unexpected, and she, more than anyone on Neji’s team, is destined to be an excellent shinobi.

She loses to the Suna kunoichi.

Neji does not cheer, does not boo, does not console. When Tenten climbs back up to the observation platform, dejected, he only barely manages to lay a single hand on her shoulder and exchange a nod.

His chest feels as though it is going to collapse inward and force all of Neji’s blood out of his mouth.

The next bout that matters is Neji’s own, and it is against his uncle’s daughter.

His chest feels as though it is a balloon that is being crushed under a landslide.

He feels nauseous.

Gai-sensei reminds him not to let that main house nonsense get to him.

Neji does not respond.

He walks down the metal stairs to the arena slowly, letting his hand follow the rail. Distantly, behind him, he can hear the sound of someone following him hesitantly.

He takes his position in the arena.

After several minutes, Hinata takes her position across from him.

His chest is tight as though all of his ribs have been molded inward into a cylinder, and his stomach burns with bile.

The proctor tells them to begin.

This is where Neji excels. He is an excellent shinobi, the genius of the Hyuuga family, a better developed byakugan than anyone in the main house has ever had and a more precise grasp of the Gentle Fist technique than anyone has ever had at his age. He is excellent at strategizing on the fly, as Tenten taught him to in all their spars, and at blocking and standard taijutsu and mocking opponents as they were trying to fight, as Lee had taught him.

And Hinata is pathetic.

She fights the same way she speaks- uncertain, soft, weak. She barely seems to know where her fist should be in relation to her wrist, much less how to move her fists and feet around in order to actually fight with a skilled shinobi.

And as Neji hits her, his chest uncurls, untightens, and he can breathe again. Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, he can breathe, can imagine the next day without feeling trapped and sick.

And then Gai-sensei steps in.

He says that he thought that Neji was not going to let this branch family stuff get to him.

Neji notes the new layer of privilege for the main house. Had it been Hinata, the heir to the Hyuuga, beating him until it was possible that his chakra systems would never work again, then no one would have any complaints.

The proctor declares Neji the winner as Hinata collapses to her knees.

Lee tells him that he did not fight fair.

Neji tells Lee that if the main house wants Neji to fight fair, they should not have branded him.

Lee tells Neji that he does not give a damn what the main house wants, _Lee_ is the one who wants Neji to fight fair.

The next match is between Lee and Gaara, and Lee actually thinks that the reverse psychology that he used on the randomly assigned bouts worked.

And Neji, watching the match, wonders for a moment if his theory of fate may have a flaw. Because Lee actually seems to be beating the Suna nin, the one who can control sand and has apparently never bled and who makes Neji want to tear his eyes out more than usual when he activates his byakugan.

And then Neji realizes that no, he should have warned Lee, should have made more certain that he understood his fate, as the Suna nin begins to kill him.

Gai-sensei steps in again, and Lee does not return to the observation platform. He goes off with the medic-nin and Gai-sensei, Neji and Tenten both watching silently.

When Neji had been a child- not quite a child, really, this was far after he developed a problem with his chest and ribs, long after his father had died, long after Neji had been branded for the good of the main house, long after he had realized his fate; but when he was still in the academy- his uncle interrupted his training.

His uncle had asked Neji to speak with him.

Neji had slowed his training, slowed his kata until he was moving at a tenth of the normal pace, not stopping until the tightness in his chest had nearly compressed him into lifelessness.

Neji’s uncle had told him that, if Neji had been born a female, his name would have been Junko.

Neji had remained silent, staring up at his uncle as he worked very hard not to glare, not to flex or clench his fists, not to give into the nausea curling in his stomach.

Neji’s uncle had asked him if he knew what Junko meant.

Neji had not.

Neji’s uncle had told him that it meant ‘obedient child’.

Neji’s uncle had left after he said that, and Neji had stood there, almost halfway done with his beginning exercises, staring at where his uncle had stood for several long minutes until he finally broke and sprinted back to his home, to his bedroom.

Neji had been certain, then, that that was when he would finally give into the nausea, that he would finally give in to whatever disease had spread itself in his chest and stomach.

He had not. His chest had tightened, the nausea had grown, but all that had happened was that his eyes had welled up with tears, tears that had kept coming no matter how many times Neji had blinked them away.

Neji had hidden under his bed, staring out suspiciously at the rest of the room, like a kicked kitten that was too afraid to see if the rest of the world was cruel.

The tears had stopped, eventually.

Neji hated the name Junko.

They have one month between the elimination round and the true tournament of the chuunin exams.

Neji is the only member of his team to move forward, and Tenten assures him that both she and Lee will be in the stands to cheer him on.

Neji spends most of his month training by himself. Gai-sensei is busy supporting Lee through his stay at the hospital, and Tenten is busy at her apprenticeship with the blacksmith.

Neji trains in the forest, mostly. He counts the birds with his byakugan, and once he is certain that he is successful in that measure, he counts the bugs and the leaves.

His chest is so very tight.

He does not know why he is counting the bugs and the leaves and the birds with his byakugan. He will be fighting Uzumaki Naruto, not Aburame Shino. Uzumaki Naruto is well-known for his brash actions and fighting attempts. He is not sneaky or conniving, or even one to face things head-on like Lee. He is most like a firework, one that no one can tear their eyes away from, but one which will burn just the same if it gets to you.

Neji should be focusing on his ninjutsu. His genjutsu. Something that will be effective against an opponent who is brash.

Instead, he counts the leaves.

He feels sick.

When Neji had been a child, too young to know anything about what made a good shinobi, just after he had had a seal burned into his forehead for the good of the main house, he had cried in his bed at night. When the sky was black as pitch, with barely enough starlight and moonlight creeping through the window for Neji to see by, he wept bitterly as his forehead burned and the pain wormed its way deep into his skull and brain, seeding its way through his cerebellum.

Neji had cried late at night, when there was not enough light in the air to reflect off of his tears, because he did not want his father to know.

Neji’s father knew anyway. He came into Neji’s bedroom, late at night, when the sky was black as pitch with barely enough starlight and moonlight creeping through the window to see by.

Neji’s father came into Neji’s bedroom late at night, when Neji was weeping salty tears that burned where he had bit his lip to keep crom sobbing aloud, and sat on the edge of Neji’s bed. He gently stroked his son’s hair, brushed aside the tears that were half-dried on Neji’s cheeks, and told him a story.

The story that Neji’s father told him, in those late dark nights when Neji could not sleep because of the pain, was of a shinobi prince. The shinobi prince was hated by everyone, looked down on by everyone in his family, including his parents and grandparents and brother.

But the shinobi prince did not let it bother him. Instead of locking himself in his room and crying, or running himself ragged trying to redeem whatever sins his family thought he had committed, or just running away from home in fear, the shinobi prince worked his hardest to be an excellent shinobi. He worked so hard, that he became a better shinobi than all the rest of his family, never letting anyone see how sad he was inside, instead always being brave and steadfast.

And then, when he was the greatest shinobi in the world, his family begged him to take his place as the shinobi king, the rightful ruler of all shinobi.

But the shinobi prince refused, and left his wicked family behind to fend for themselves. The shinobi prince spent the rest of his life travelling the world, helping people, being a brave boy and the most excellent shinobi in all the world.

Neji is not stupid. He knows that he is no prince, and nowhere near the most excellent shinobi in all the world.

But the tightness in his chest is looser the further away from his uncle that he gets, the further away from those eyes that he can never seem to escape, further away from the family that branded him and abandoned him when his father died.

Neji Hyuuga will not run away from his home. It is not that he is particularly brave- but he is no coward, either. It is because he is afraid of what will happen if he does.

Sometimes, late at night when he cannot breathe and cannot sleep, he wanders the Hyuuga compound, through the gardens and around the pond, looping all the way up to the gate.

The gate is always shut.

If the guards are changing when Neji is walking by, they all glare at him suspiciously. What will the genius of the clan do? Will he stage a coup, all by his lonesome? Will he kill his uncle in the night? Will he try to run from his family and his destiny?

When the gate is open, during the daytime, it frightens Neji.

Just seeing the gate is enough to crush his chest like an empty soda can, nearly completely deflate his lungs and make him want to vomit whatever he had managed to choke down for breakfast.

He hurries through the gate in the morning.

When he returns to the compound in the evening, the gate still open, it frightens him even more. It feels as though he is being crushed in the grasp of some oni or ogre, squeezed into a pulp like a tomato. His eyes start to water, and he feels ill, and he wonders if this is what it would be to die of poison, if he were important enough to be poisoned. Does being poisoned feel like being crushed, like blood leaking out of your mouth and eyes, like vomiting?

Neji does not know.

When he sees the gate in the evening, it frightens him. It is as though a wall were missing from his home, not like a gate that is meant to be there.

Neji sees the gate and feels like a tiger that has been caged for many, many years, ever since it was a cub, a predator trapped behind iron bars, with an iron chain tied tight around its neck, never knowing when the next cruelty was to come. A cub whose mother was killed by hunters, whose father was killed when the cub was captured.

A tiger, no matter how powerful it should be, is weak when it has been caged for many, many years.

Neji feels like that tiger, which has been caged for so many years, finally seeing its cage doors open when he sees the gate.

He hates himself for not running, as the tiger would hate itself for not escaping when its cage inevitably closes again.

Neji feels sickest in the evening, when he has seen the gates open and he has asked himself why he does not leave, does not become a missing-nin, or even just an innocent civilian in another land. The Land of Waves would be a wonderful place to live, as long as he had a boat to carry him. Or the Land of Wind, if he could make himself a home somewhere, become some sort of craftsman. Or the Land of Hot Water, which is at peace, retiring its shinobi forces to civilian jobs.

Anywhere that is not Kumo, which killed his father, or Iwa, which killed his mother.

When the chuunin exams arrive, Neji can barely breathe. The air seems thicker than usual, hotter with all the people crowded into the arena, and Neji’s chest feels crushed like an eggshell underfoot. He is almost certain that his spine has met with his sternum, that the edges of his spine have come together, that his chest is becoming two-dimensional.

And he feels ill. Too sick to eat breakfast, too nauseous to even accept a drink of the water that Tenten offers him.

Lee limps into the arena, determined, and Gai-sensei tries to persuade him to the hospital.

Lee refuses, and offers his fist to Neji.

He demands that Neji win, that he prove the might of Team Gai.

Neji pauses, struggles, manages to take a shallow, shaky breath. He brushes his own fist against Lee’s, and reminds him that they do actually have a team number.

Lee does not care.

Neji’s fight is first, and he feels dizzy. He can hardly breathe, and he still wants to vomit, even with his stomach empty.

But he goes down into the arena anyway. He will not disappoint Lee or Tenten or Gai-sensei.

He is not a coward, and he will not run.

His mother’s name was Chizue, and she had deserved it.

Neji will not abandon his mother’s name.

Uzumaki Naruto is his opponent, and the first thing he says to Neji is that Neji will pay for what he did to Hinata.

And Neji’s chest burns, as though it were coated with alcohol and he swallowed a match. It burns, and he spits fire and acid and the words that he has kept locked away for so long of what his uncle did, of what his uncle’s daughter did, of what happened to his father, of how Neji is trapped. Neji wants to scream, but he will use his words and he will shout his words as loud as he pleases, and he hopes that his uncle does hear, that his uncle’s daughter is there to cheer on her team and that she hears him as well, his rage and her guilt.

He is certain that he is spitting blood as he shouts, but no red stains Uzumaki Naruto or the ground around him. It is only Neji, his words echoing in the arena and in his skull and back down his throat, burning him again as his chest keeps loosening and his nausea keeps growing.

He is nearly crying, and he wants to scream at the strain of keeping the tears away, wants to scream in general, as the tightness in his chest becomes more and more intense in the shocked silence, and then Uzumaki Naruto hits him.

He hits him square in the jaw, hard enough that it knocks Neji back several yards, and something unfortunate _cracks_.

Uzumaki Naruto calls Neji an idiot. Several times, quite loudly, shouting that it is not Hinata’s fault, that no one is trapped in their fate, that Uzumaki Naruto has never done anything according to what other people tell him, and he certainly will not do something just because some invisible thing that probably does not exist says so.

And Uzumaki Naruto hits Neji several more times, harder and harder and harder, and several more unfortunate things _crack_. Neji manages to hit back, once or twice, but it is not worth it.

He wonders if this is how he will die. If he will be killed in the chuunin exams, as Lee nearly was, by a genin with chakra that makes Neji want to claw his eyes out more than usual, with how it burns and bristles.

Uzumaki Naruto does not kill Hyuuga Neji.

Neji knows that he thinks about death far more than usual. On his team’s first multi-day mission outside of the village, they had been camping, and Lee had wanted to get to know Neji and Tenten. He had insisted that they go around the campfire, and everyone ask a question that they all had to answer.

Tenten had suggested that they play ‘Never Have I Ever’ instead, but Lee had insisted that alcohol was not a suitable beverage for a youthful shinobi.

Never mind that they already knew quite a deal about each other. Tenten was the only kunoichi from their year who graduated the academy, and an orphan to boot. She had a part-time apprenticeship with a blacksmith, which she used the wages from to pay for her apartment so that she was not living completely in the slums. She was a fuuinjutsu prodigy, and a kenjutsu prodigy, and smart enough to pretend to be a ditzy teenage girl with a mild glitter obsession to cover her impressive skills as a shinobi. She had never excelled in kunoichi lessons, had never caught on to speaking with flowers the way she had weapons, had never understood her lessons in seduction as more than a way to make others laugh.

Lee was a clanless shinobi, with merchant parents who were away from Konoha more often than not. He had no genjutsu, ninjutsu, or fuuinjutsu skills to speak of, and was only barely passable in kenjutsu. His only exceeding trait was his dedication, which was the only reason he got through the academy, working twenty times as hard as the clan children in their class only to get half as far. His sole inspiration was Gai-sensei, and he was desperate to make friends. He knew what people said about him, that he was a failure waiting to happen, a civilian with delusions of being a shinobi, no skills to speak of who would weigh his teammates down more than his ankle weights. 

Neji was the only clan shinobi in their year, and nowhere near important enough to live up to the reputation of the many clan heirs in the year below theirs. He was a nothing shinobi from a something clan, not important enough to miss school to learn clan politics or to engage in clan ceremonies. He was a member of the branch house, an orphan of the branch house, someone who was derided for being too weak for a clan while still thinking that he was better than all the clanless shinobi, even when he was.

Lee had asked who their best friends were, and none of them had ever had one.

Tenten had asked what their favorite colors were. Hers was lilac, Lee’s was turtleshell-green, and Neji’s was white. Lee had insisted that white was not a color, and so Neji had said silver.

Neji had asked how often they thought about death.

Tenten had said that she usually did not. That it was not relevant to her life, being an orphan and all. There was no one who cared about her enough for her to mind if they died, and it was not as though there was anything that presented an imminent danger of her dying.

She did not expand on the fact that she _usually_ did not.

Lee had said that he did not. That he was going to be a splendid shinobi, that he would make his parents and Gai-sensei proud, that he would prove that one could be an excellent shinobi without needing ninjutsu or genjutsu or fuuinjutsu or even kenjutsu. That he would be eternally with the spirit of youth, as Gai-sensei was.

Neji had said that he constantly played out different scenarios where he died, for different reasons and causes and from different techniques and people. That he thought about his father’s death a lot, and his mother’s less often. That he lit incense every week, at his father’s shrine and at the memorial stone for his mother.

There had been a lull around the campfire, until Lee had yelled out asking what everyone’s favorite soda was.

That night, Gai-sensei had pulled Neji aside to talk with him. He had told Neji that he was always available to talk, that he could recommend a mental health specialist, that there was no need to be afraid of death, but that it was perfectly normal if he was.

Neji had not known how to explain to Gai-sensei that he did not fear death, but that he craved it, that with death might come the release of the tension in his chest, whatever was crushing his ribs constantly, whatever made him feel nauseous as his ribs were squeezed together.

Instead, he had nodded and gone to bed.

Neji loses his match in the chuunin exams to Uzumaki Naruto, who hits him hard enough that Neji needs to get a cast on his arm.

His uncle comes into the room as Neji is being treated, and Neji’s heart and lungs are squeezed in a vice, and he feels ill enough that perhaps he can justify being in the medical tent.

Neji’s uncle explains to him that Neji’s father had chosen to die. That Hizashi had insisted on dying for his brother. That Neji’s father had refused Hiashi’s refusal, and had gone to Kumo willingly. That Hizashi had died, but not for the main house or the branch house or for Konoha. That Neji’s father had died for his older brother, who was born only a few seconds before him and, in being born only a few seconds earlier, was destined to be free and to be alive and not to leave his children behind, orphaned.

Hiashi bows before Neji in dogeza, and begs for Neji’s forgiveness.

And Neji grants it, because he still can not breathe and he still feels certain that he is going to vomit and he can feel the tears prickling at the edges of his vision, and he just wants his uncle to be as far away from him as quickly as possible.

The medic-nin who is treating Neji hurries Hiashi out of the tent as soon as the man is standing again, and Neji allows himself only three quaking breaths before he forces himself back to normal, standard shinobi breathing exercises of in-two-three-four, out-five-six-seven-eight-nine.

The shinobi rubs a salve over Neji’s bruises and declares him cleared for mission status below B-rank.

Neji steps out of the tent and into the light of day.

He still feels sick. He does not feel cured, he does not feel closure, he does not even feel acceptance.

He presses his unbandaged hand against his chest and feels his heartbeat, as the tightness in his chest creeps ever closer to strangling him.

He wants to breathe again.

**Author's Note:**

> do just wanna say that i dont agree w what neji says abt his cousin in this one but like im not hinatas biggest fan but she didnt like directly murder nejis dad but neji in this fic is 13 and traumatized so like lets cut him a big ol slice of slack


End file.
